


Cortex

by amoleofmonsters



Series: Fight Club AU [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fight Club Fusion, Depression, Dubious Consent, Fight Club - Freeform, Fight Club AU, M/M, Mental Instability, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoleofmonsters/pseuds/amoleofmonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin appeared one day, slowly and then all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cortex

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this fic that I was working on since the summer. It was a great experiance to write and I hope you all enjoy it. There's currently a sequel in the works that I hope to release at some point in the next few months.
> 
> Knowledge of Fight Club isn't needed to understand this fic, although it certainly helps.
> 
> Warning: there may be some aspects to this fic that may be triggering. I tried to cover everything in the tags, but things may have been missed. You have been warned.

**cor·tex**  
noun  
the outer layer of the cerebrum (the cerebral cortex ), composed of folded gray matter and plays an important role in consciousness.

 

I met Rin at a bus station, six months before high school graduation. A black baseball cap was situated on the top of his head, his hair bright red and framing his face. It was a bit long for a boy – still is a bit long for a boy.

The streetlight was sharp against his silhouette.

He saw me silently watching him out of the corner of his eye. A sharp, Cheshire cat grin appeared on his face, revealing sharp fangs. Not teeth. Fangs.

“If I killed myself in front of Tokyo City Hall, took a gun to my head and splattered my brains across the sidewalk, do you think the masses would react? Or do you think they'd keep walking like cows marked for slaughter?”

I said nothing.

“Society is falling apart, rotting under our very feet. We're nothing but pathetic sheep, doing what everyone else tells us. We're running headfirst to our graves and we don't even know it.”

The streetlight was still sharp against his silhouette.

I said nothing. 

After a few minutes, he walked away.

The streetlight is still there, still shining on the spot where Rin Matsuoka stood.

 

College was an apartment in the city and lasted for approximately six months. The apartment itself lasted far longer than that, but it was where I spent the majority of my time. The college campus seemed promising and then it became pure monotony. After two months, I stopped standing on campus. After four months, I stopped standing in their enrollment list.

Mornings typically began with a bathtub soak that would often drag into the afternoon. I thought about staying in there forever, my skin pruning up even more, perhaps dissolving. The water could make me disappear. I could stick myself under and never come up. A flesh waste in my own filth and feces.

Eventually, I would haul myself out. I would shove bland, sandpaper-like food into my mouth. I would sit my ass down in front of the television. I would boot up the computer, check my email. One message from my father telling me to eat right.

Rinse. Repeat.

Two weeks after I was thrown out of college, I stood outside of my apartment building. Help wanted signs dotted the street. Rent needed to be paid, so did the electrical bill. So I called up a number.

The first job was inside of a hardware store, manning the cash register. The man next to me smelled of moldy cheese and had glasses that engulfed his face. A few high school kids worked in the store and their laughter regarding various celebrities' breast sizes and how much alcohol they could binge drink before passing out could be heard everywhere. The manager, a man who did nothing but continually complain about women not finding him attractive, was usually off preforming autoerotic asphyxiation with stolen rope from the store in his office.

Within the first week, I realize that a vast majority of the customers are old, far-sighted men who should really wear their glasses. Every five minutes, a confused old man asks me, “Sonny, can you read this?” Since the manager is always busy chafing his own dick off, I decide to spend my shifts napping in the break room and take lunches, multiple lunches, whenever I please.

About three weeks in, a girl with a massive grin shows up and asks for a job. I do not care to learn much about her, but the high school boys run after her, trying to grab at her breasts and beg her to have sex with them. She quits three days later and I never see her again. From what I understand, three days is a record for how long a girl has managed to stay in the store.

I stay on the job for about five months. At the end of the fifth month, the manager ends up accidentally choking himself to death.

The new manager fires me within two days. He tells me I am the single most depressing person he has ever met and I should really consider a hobby.

I end up spending the rest of the day in my bathtub.

 

Rin shows up everywhere in my life since the bus station, from convenience stores to the gym to subway platforms. He always has on that black baseball cap and is always smiling. Whenever he sees me, he always runs after me. No matter how much I try to avoid him, he always catches up.

“I wonder what would happen if someone ripped the political structure apart, left the entire world to nothing. Would anyone be cleaver enough to survive or are we so ingrained in our consumerist society that we'd be lost without our televisions and brand new iPhones?”

I rarely say anything. I never have anything to say, anyway. I just stand there and listen.

One day, I find him standing in the alleyway of a Burger King. It is late and the area is empty.

He punches me.

Pulls his arm back and slams his fist into the side of my face.

I scream and taste blood.

Then, I throw myself at him.

We land punch after punch on each other. Bleeding, bruising, broken teeth landing on the sidewalk.

My blood is pumping in my ears. I have not felt this alive in so long.

Adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Heart pounding.

Rin is laughing, his voice washing over my ears.

When we stop, there is blood caking both of our faces, but neither of us cares.

I am crying, but it is of happiness, the tears flowing into my mouth. 

The salt excretions mix with red.

A few hours later, I stumble into my apartment. Warm arms grab ahold of me and I vaguely register a voice screaming in my ear. I am picked up and carried to the bathtub. The faucet is turned on and warm water cascades over my protesting muscles. A wet rag is pressed to my shoulder and comes away with blood.

If it were not for my roommate, I would have ended up dead a long time ago. I have known Makoto Tachibana practically my entire life. He is the type of kindhearted person that will go to the ends of the Earth for the people he cares about. He helps old ladies cross the street. He takes home stray cats. He is so nice that angels probably dance around him in their spare time.

I am madly in love with him, have been for as long as I can remember.

But I also hate him.

When Makoto feels he has cleaned me up as much as he can, he drags me out of the tub and over to my bed. He bundles me up in as many blankets as he can find and then presses an ice pack to my eye. After ten minutes, he stands up and turns off the light.

“Not all of it was my blood,” I call after him.

He says nothing and walks out.

I have never told him I am in love with him. I never will.

 

Rin meets me in the basement of a pub about three miles away from my apartment. It is empty except for a few crates that have been pushed to the side. Rin stands in the dead center, Cheshire cat grin on his face. I ask him why he told me to meet him there. 

“You'll see,” is his only reply.

Ten minutes later, I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs. People begin to flow in, all different types of folks from all different walks of life. There is the pharmacist with the chipped tooth, my boss from my current day job at the DVD store, the guy who smelled like moldy cheese from the hardware store. And there are others. There is about fifteen of them, ranging from tall to short.

Rin opens his mouth.

“The first rule of Fight Club is you don't talk about Fight Club.”

His voice washes over the crowd. Everyone is watching him; he has their undivided attention.

“The second rule of Fight Club is you don't talk about Fight Club.”

The crowd looks confused, but they say nothing. Some exchange glances.

“When someone says stop, or goes limp, the fight is over.”

“Only two guys to a fight. One fight at a time.”

“They fight without shirts and shoes.”

“The fights go on as long as they have to.”

Then, Rin smirks.

“If this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight!”

 

The moldy cheese guy's punches hurt like rocket launchers and make my pulse sing. His blood stains my knuckles and I smash his glasses against the concrete two minutes into the fight. I manage to pin him to the floor and he screams for mercy. I let him go. 

The fight is over. Bruises litter my rib cage. 

I win.

I do not see Rin after his speech, but he corners me when the meeting ends and follows me home. He rambles about how amazing today was, how much of a success it all was. He is pleased with himself. So am I.

Makoto meets us at the door with a smile and they disappear into his bedroom five minutes later. I sit on the couch and turn on the TV. Eventually, Rin's groans and Makoto's screams become far too loud for even the television to drown out.

I retire to my bedroom and fall asleep just as Rin comes deep inside Makoto.

 

Fight Club becomes a weekly affair. Once a week, I meet Rin in the basement of that old bar. Once a week, Rin stands in the middle of the basement and repeats the rules of Fight Club. Once a week, Rin's voice washes over me. Once a week, I am able to feel alive.

The members of Fight Club keep on growing and growing. What started as fifteen odd people grows into at least a hundred. I stop being able to remember everyone's name. They do not matter anyway.

Once a week, I slam my fist into someone's face.

Once a week, I kick another person in the stomach.

Once a week, endorphins make my body sing.

 

Two months after Fight Club begins, I get a phone call. The result is that I end up dragging myself downtown to meet up with Gou “Kou” Matsuoka, ex-manager of my high school swim team. By this point, she must be a freshman in college and she carries herself as confidently as I remember.

She is Rin's sister, but I have never actually seen them together in the same room.

I sit down at the table with a coffee in hand. I am nursing a sprained ankle. Kou notices but says nothing.

“How are you, Haru?”

I shrug.

She launches into a narrative about how the swim team has been in the past year. Something about the first years being amazing, that none of them can possibly compare to me, but they are getting pretty damn close.

I nod, pretending to listen.

The coffee tastes like toxic sludge water.

I drink it anyway.

“You should visit Iwatobi with me in the fall. I’m sure everyone would love to see us. You can bring Makoto, too. And I'll call up Nagisa and Rei. It'll be a reunion.”

I shrug.

I tell her I will call her about it.

I know I will not.

She knows I will not.

She does not even know why I came all this way to meet her, but she takes what she can get.

We part ways soon after.

I hobble home on the sprained ankle.

Kou says nothing about it as she watches me leave.

When I get home, Makoto is on the phone. He does not look happy.

“I really don't think you should call anymore. Please don't call anymore. Please.”

He hangs up the phone and turns to look at me.

“What was that about?” I ask.

He smiles.

“Don't worry about it.”

I shrug and go into the bathroom. I sit in the bathtub until dinnertime.

 

Two weeks later, I am fired from the DVD store. Something about putting porn in the Children's section.

That night, I show up to see Rin standing in the middle of the floor as usual. No one is there yet.

He is holding a lighter and a map of Japan.

He sets the tip of the map on fire and throws it to the ground. Before my eyes, the fire eats away at it until there is nothing left.

“Let's make the world burn, Haru.

Let's make them tremble at the sound of our name.”

 

This time, they are not in the basement of the bar.

This is not Fight Club.

But Rin is still standing in the middle, looking over the crowd.

It is not much of a crowd.

Ten people.

And it is not going to get bigger. It is not allowed to.

Rin opens his mouth and starts speaking.

“Rule one: You don’t ask questions.”

“Rule two: You don’t ask questions.”

“No excuses. No lies.”

“You have to trust me.”

Everyone is dead silent.

 

I have lost the ability to sleep.

The sound of sex carries out of the next room: the slapping of skin on skin, the screams and moans.

Every morning, Makoto looks exhausted. There are marks trailing up and down his body, scratches down his back. Rope burns on his wrists.

I look away. It makes me sick to my stomach.

But every night, I still touch myself to the sound of their fucking.

I still come, hand wrapped around my dick, as I hear Rin drive himself into Makoto.

I still fall asleep wishing that I were the one fucking Makoto until all hours of the night. But I lost my chance. I lost every chance I had.

Even though Rin has for all intents and purposes moved in with us, he is gone by the time morning rolls around. Makoto makes me coffee and breakfast. It only tastes slightly better than sandpaper but I swallow it and thank him before leaving.

I find a job at an aquarium. It reminds of when I wanted to be surrounded by water. Now water makes me feel as good as anything else. The only thing that still makes me feel a semblance of happiness is the Fight Club. The aquarium job is nothing more than a way to pay the bills.

The aquarium itself is a terrible establishment. The tanks are far too small and far too dirty. It is either empty or swamped with crying children and angry parents. I do not know which I hate more. A younger version of me would have wanted to do something. Might have even asked Makoto for help.

But I do nothing. I just accept the paycheck at the end of the week.

There are only two other employees. One of them is a confused high school girl who wants to renovate the place, but they do not have the money. She is only a part time worker and is not around enough to change anything. The other is the manager. He reminds me a bit of the manager at the hardware store, but at least he does not masturbate for hours on end in his office.

There is still Fight Club at the end of the week.

One week, I even see the aquarium manager there. He holds an ice pack to his face the next day.

 

One Tuesday, Makoto calls me after work and asks me to pick up some groceries. The supermarket I end up in is cold and has a rotten fish smell no matter where I go. There is one employee, a cashier who looks like he is about to strangle himself with his lanyard. 

I am looking at a box of rice when I hear someone call my name. I turn around to see a short woman standing behind me, smiling.

It is my mother.

“Haruka, how are you?”

I do not know what to say to her.

“I'm fine.” 

“You really should call. Don't be a stranger. I'm your mother, for fucks’ sake.”

I am about to answer her when someone grabs my shoulder. 

“I need to speak to you.”

It is Rin.

I stare at him, then look back at my mother.

“I have to go.”

Her face warps into one of annoyance but all she says is, “Promise you'll call.”

“I will.”

I do not.

 

Kou comes to visit on my day off. I am alone in the apartment. Makoto has class and Rin is fuck-knows where. I am eating leftover cold pizza, drowning it with a day old glass of milk I found on the counter, when she knocks.

Just my luck, Kou is holding a six-pack of beer. This means she wants to talk.

I want to be drunk so I let her in. She perches herself on the couch and I sit next to her.

“I've been hearing things, Haru.”

I stare at her blankly.

“People around town are bruised, beaten: my professor, the janitor of the science building, a waiter at my favorite restaurant, even my roommate's boyfriend. And there's been stuff on the news. I don't know if you've heard, but there have been small attacks all over the city. Bank robberies, a small bomb was set off at the train station. Stuff like that.”

I shake my head. “Sorry, don't know anything.” The first rule of Fight Club echoes in my head, Rin's voice strong and commanding.

Kou stares up at me. Her eyes are begging. She knows I am lying.

I take a swing of the beer. It is cheap and burns the back of my throat. 

“Actually, I know of someone you can talk to.” 

“Who?”

“Your brother.”

“My brother?”

I take another swing. “Yeah. Talk to Rin.”

“Haru, what are you talking about?” She takes the beer out of my hand and sets it out of arm's reach.

I reach for another, unopened beer that is closer.

“I think you've had enough.”

“I didn't even finish my first one. I'm not a lightweight, Kou.”

“Haru, I don't have a brother.”

What?

“I'm an only child.”

Kou leaves soon after and takes the rest of the beer with her. I spend the rest of the day alternating between sitting in the bathtub and sleeping on the couch. I think of nothing but Kou's words. They do not make sense. I have never seen Kou and Rin in the same room, but that does not mean it is true. How could Kou have been telling the truth?

Somewhere around nine, the door opens and Makoto walks in, dumping his backpack on the table.

“Did you know that Kou is an only child?” I ask, sitting up on the couch to look at him. 

“Of course I did,” he says, waving aside my comment. “I'm going to make dinner. I got some mackerel, what do you want with it?”

I shrug. It does not matter. Makoto disappears into the kitchen and a sizzling sound fills the apartment. 

I end up falling asleep again. Makoto shakes me awake when dinner is ready and I follow him into the kitchen. The table is already set and I take my place, biting into the mackerel. Makoto made rice to go with it. It tastes unbearable, but I force it down.

“I ran into my mother the other day.” I don't know why I am telling Makoto this, but it comes out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Makoto's eyes grow wide.

“What happened?”

“She told me to call more often. Then Rin came and dragged me away.”

“Rin?”

“Yeah, your boyfriend – or whatever you two are.”

“Haru-”

“Look, you guys aren't subtle. You keep me up at night sometimes, but other than that I don't mind. Really. You don't need to hide it anymore.”

“Haru-” 

“Anyway, it wasn't a very long conversation. With my mom, I mean. I should probably call her and my dad, shouldn't I?”

“Haru, what are you talking about?”

“My mother. Remember, I ran into her? But it's not important. I don't know why I brought it up.”

“No, not that! This Rin guy, I don't know who you're talking about. I don't know him and I wouldn't be dating him if I did.” 

I study his face. Makoto is a bad liar and I can spot his lying a mile away. 

Makoto is not lying.

“I don't understand. What do you mean you're not seeing Rin?”

“Haru, whatever you do, don't call your mother or your father.”

“Makoto, answer my question!” My voice raises. Makoto stares at me, shocked. I never yell and I am certainly not demanding, never emotional. I do not know where this is coming from, but I need his answer.

“Haru, I'm dating you! Well, okay, we never actually talked about what we are, but our relationship is definitely not platonic!”

What?

I have been pining over Makoto since at least middle school.

I would know if we were together.

Suddenly, I am bent over Makoto. He is lying on his bed, legs spread. He is screaming and I am pushing in. There is blood, lots of blood. I realize there is not enough lube. Makoto is crying.

“You want this, don't you? You love my cock, don't you?” 

It is my voice, coming from my lips, but I barley recognize it. 

“Such a slut.”

There are hundreds of these scenes, one every night for at least the last year.

I do not think Makoto ever actually came.

Suddenly, I am little and cowering in a corner. My mother is standing over me, screaming, hand raised. I am crying. Her voice is bouncing off the walls of the house. 

“You're such a fucking embarrassment!”

Slap.

“Why did I have a son like you?” 

Slap.

“I could have had an amazing life as an actress but you took it all away from me!”

There is blood trickling from my split lip, staining the carpet.

“You're such a freak!”

I am going to have to clean that up later.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Crash.

“I wish you had never been born!”

My father is sitting at the dinner table, glaring down at me. He has a scowl on his face. He always has a scowl on his face when he looks at me.

“I was told you got a B in Science?”

“I'm sorry, father.”

“I refuse to tolerate that in my house. You come from good genes. This is inexcusable. You're a disgrace.”

I bend my head and say nothing.

“And you're spending too much time with that Tachibana boy. It's getting ridiculous. You're not a little kid any more. People are gonna talk. You're not a dirty faggot, are you?” 

“No, father, I'm sorry.” 

“And your diet is pathetic. Do you want me to have a weakling for a son? Join the baseball team or something. Swimming is for fags, anyway. Fags who get off on watching naked men all day. And the house is disgusting! Is this what you call cleaning? Do it again until the whole place is fucking spotless!”

“Yes, father. Right away.”

I stand up and look for the vacuum cleaner. 

“What did I do to deserve this loser of a son?” 

I am in the basement of the bar. Fight Club members are everywhere. But instead of being among them, I am standing in the center and they are all looking at me. 

I open my mouth and the rules pour out. 

I am behind that Burger King and instead of Rin, there is a guy with a knife. I am on the ground and he is punching, kicking, yelling at me. I am laughing like a hyena. He calls me crazy. He takes my wallet and leaves the knife in my thigh. A young woman finds me ten minutes later and calls the police. 

I am standing in the office – Project Mayhem – and in front of me is a map. There are ‘x’s scattered all over it, marking off banks, convenience stores. A giant circle sits on top of Shinjuku Station. They are all watching me, waiting for my orders. 

The phone rings. 

I am standing outside of my childhood home in Iwatobi, watching my parents' car disappear into the distance. They are moving to Tokyo. Dad's voice rings in my ear, “How the hell can we take you with us? You're such a pathetic loser. We'll be the laughingstock of the entire city. No, it's better if you stay here where you can't embarrass us anymore.”

There is a bandage on my face from last night. Mom hit me with her wedding ring on and then told me to scrub the blood off of it.

Makoto is standing next to me. He takes my hand in his and squeezes.

I am lying on the floor of my Tokyo apartment, having fallen from my chair. My knees are pressed up against my chest and I vaguely register that I am crying. I feel Makoto pull me into his arms and I cry into his shirt, screams ripping from my throat. I cry and cry, cry until I am shaking. I vaguely remember puking on myself, the vomit sticky on my fingers. It feels like my heart is breaking and that I am numb all at the same time. Snot drips from my nose and a tissue is shoved into my face. Strong hands card through my hair. 

“We're gonna get you some help, okay? You're gonna be okay, Haru.” 

I nod. I cry. I can not speak. 

Over Makoto's shoulder I see Rin. He stands in the doorway of the kitchen, grinning like a Cheshire cat.


End file.
